A Birth Story

August 28th 2019, I’m in a hospital room about to be induced. My partner James and I had arrived at 7 am and left in a room with a hospital gown for me to put on. I immediately undress and the nurse burst back in. I’m completely naked. A great start to this adventure.

I’m 22 years old and exactly 40 weeks pregnant. My first and so far only one. A total surprise to everyone especially us. Other than a gestational diabetes diagnoses around 35 weeks, everything’s gone smoothly. We’d found out at 11 weeks we were having a boy thanks to one of those online kits you can get to send in a blood sample.

By 7:30 my OBGYN, Dr. Gootjes, reaches in with a small tool to break my water. No pain, but there is a rush of warm fluid and an immediate feeling of relief. By the end there was so much pressure on my bladder that the release is amazing.

We’re left alone to watch, “How to Train Your Dragon” and nervously fidget about the room. I now have an IV and band around my stomach making it difficult to move freely.

Tonya, my mother in law is the first to arrive. She’s brought me a ring that says mom. It has a small gem in the O, which I’ll wear through out the rest of the day. Soon everyone arrives. Both sets of parents, all of our siblings and their partners. At max we had about 15 people in our room.

As the hours pass I do start to notice what I’d call light period cramps that would come and go. I was so scared about the pain, so hyper aware of every feeling in my body the whole time. After the first hour with little progress I get the impression that my OB was getting a little impatient. Started the drip to help induce contractions which I did feel. Slightly stronger contractions, which I could still easily talk through. I’d grab at the handles on the side of the bed hard every time one came expecting it to be the one that breaks me.

I was 5cm dialated, the drip had been turned up a few times. My OB entered the room making a comment about too much talking and laughing, again seeming a little impatient. I later learned that she had plans that night and was hoping this would be quicker so she could be the one to deliver.

I was checked again and I don’t know what the hell she did, but while prodding away down there I was hit with an intense contraction. Dialed up way more than the other ones. They were gradually getting stronger but nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m more of a suffer in silence type, yet tears sprang to the surface and I uttered an unlady like swear in front of my mom. My nurse, Dawn, fluttered her hands around me unsure how to help. My OB very gently asked if I would like an epidural, I think feeling a little guilty now.

Now I was struggling. Everyone had to leave the room except James. I was helped into a sitting position on the side of the bed, curved forward slightly. Contractions were closer now and hard to talk through. I consentrated very hard on not moving, locking my self in place while they prept. The needle going into my spine wasn’t bad, the little tube they had to insert was another story. Painful electric like tingles that felt so viscerally invasive. Topped with increasingly painful contractions.

This is when I learned that there’s fentanyl in epidurals. After being taped up and laid back down I was flying high baby. 9 months of sobriety, only a half glass of wine on my 21st birthday and I was lit.

Everyone went down the the cafeteria for lunch now that it was about 2:30 PM. I was left alone for the first time. The lights were dim, my lower body was totally numb and I no longer felt any pain. I laid in comfort and peace for about an hour.

From 2:30 to 5:30 I had stalled at 6cm dialated. My OB had to leave and a new guy was called in, Dr. Workema. He had myself and another patient going along at about the same rate and was bouncing between us. She had decided against any pain relief and he was by her side more as at this point I was comfortable and had my family around me.

At 7pm we briefly discussed having a c-section as I was now only at 7cm. 10 hours since we arrived at the hospital that morning. I wasn’t nervous about it, I trusted the hospital staff to make the best decision for us. Before that though it was suggested that we move the bed into a sitting position, in the hopes that gravity may help.

At about 8 pm I was starting to feel my contractions again but it was different. Sounds kinda gross but very few minutes of feel intense pressure in between my vagina and you know what whole that had a pushing urge behind it. Another 30 minutes and I’m certain I’m getting an urge to push.

I’m laid back down and I’m finally at 10cm! People are asked to clear out leaving James who’s sat behind me in the bed. My mom and Tonya both holding one leg and my two sisters to the side being the worlds best cheerleaders.

8:40 pm and I’m asked to start pushing. My epidural is working well so I look at a monitor that tells me when my contractions are hitting. I actually felt pretty silly for about 30 minutes doing this. I couldn’t feel much and having to push hard for 10 seconds at a time was very tiring.

Last 20-30 minutes is when shit started to get real. The immense pressure of the contractions are translating as pain to me. They’re one after the other and a very instinctual part took over now. Dr. Workema and his team asked me to slow down so they could get the end of the bed set up and I couldn’t stop pushing. It was no longer up to me. Everyone around me was counting to 10, murmuring encouraging words to me. I tuned it out and had my eyes closed, occasionally glancing down in between pushes.

His heads at the threshold. So much pressure, constant feeling of contraction. I’m not listening to what anyone’s saying. Just pushing as my body told me too. Slowly the head comes out and I feel this. Very relieving and only takes one more push for him to be born.

“It’s a boy! And he’s a red head!” The doctor announces. Immediatly placing him on my chest. He’s so warm and damp. I instantly grab Jamses hand and bring it down to touch our son, Theodore. I wanted him to know we were both here.

He is a red head! Bright orange hair. He cries loud and clear for us. I immediately ask for skin and skin and can’t believe he’s here. James cries softly behind me. It all really hits then, a human child, our child.

He’s born at 9:41 PM. He’s 7 pounds and 8 ounces (which I guessed exactly before he was born) 20 inches long, red hair and blue eyes.